


under(his)pants

by solafiamma



Category: Popslash
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-08-22
Updated: 2004-08-22
Packaged: 2017-10-18 22:22:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/193937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/solafiamma/pseuds/solafiamma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Written for “Boys in their dresses,” Lily’s cross-dressing challenge. My lyric (and please don’t ask me how I got this story from it) was:<br/><i>Cause boy you still look pretty to me<br/>But I’ve got a place to go<br/>I’ve got a ticket to your late show</i></p><p><i>Disclaimer: It’s all fiction, every last word of it.</i></p>
    </blockquote>





	under(his)pants

**Author's Note:**

> Written for “Boys in their dresses,” Lily’s cross-dressing challenge. My lyric (and please don’t ask me how I got this story from it) was:  
>  _Cause boy you still look pretty to me  
>  But I’ve got a place to go  
> I’ve got a ticket to your late show_
> 
>  _Disclaimer: It’s all fiction, every last word of it._

“Mmm. Oh. But mmm, yeah. Fuck. But just, uh. Wait a, ohhh, damn. Stop, C, just wait a sec. Wait.”

Justin tips his head to one side, away from the warm, wet distraction of JC’s tongue in his ear, and tries to shift his hips back to break contact with JC’s pelvis. This last is a bit trickier, because JC has him pinned against the dining room table, and Justin is probably going to end up with a nasty bruise across his ass,JC’s grinding into him so hard.

“C? JC?” JC’s mouth just keeps working against the part of Justin’s neck it still has access to, which feels absolutely fabulous, and his hands keep squeezing the bits of Justin’s ass that aren’t being mashed into the table. He’s making happy little moany, humming noises, and, apart from an odd hiccup-y sound, doesn’t react at all to Justin’s words.

Finally, Justin hooks his thumbs into the back belt loops of JC’s jeans and hauls him far enough away to give their dicks some breathing room. JC is all rumpled and stunned, like he’s just woken from a fourteen hour sleep, and he looks confused.

“No, no, hey, c’mon,” he mumbles, trying to pull Justin back toward him..

“Wait, JC. Just  _wait_  a sec. I just. You know. Aren’t we gonna eat first? I thought we were gonna eat first. I thought you’d be hungry,” Justin finishes lamely.

JC wrinkles his forehead and looks even more confused. “Eat?” he asks, like food is a quaint little tradition that only foreigners and really old people still indulge in.

“Well, yeah, dude.” Justin shrugs, and winces at the unfamiliar tightness across his chest and back. Fuck. He’ll never understand why chicks put up with this shit. “I  _did_  invite you for dinner.”

“Oh. Right.  _Right_. And you, like, meant dinner, then. As in  _dinner_.” JC nods intelligently, peering around the room, taking in the table set for two -- with a linen tablecloth, and napkins folded into little boats and Justin’s finest china -- the bottle of Beaujolais breathing on the sideboard, and the candles glowing in the centre of the table, on the sideboard, on the windowsill and on every other flat surface in the room other than the chairs and the floor. Justin may have gone a tad overboard with the candles, but whatever. He wouldn’t have done this for another guy, like Chris, say, or Joey, both of whom would have laughed until they puked, but JC is different. He  _likes_  candles. Really likes them. He also likes incense, but Justin had forgotten to buy any until it was too late, so he’d just attacked the room with a can of Glade air freshener instead. Close enough. Even if now it does smell more like toilet bowl cleaner than the “lemon fresh scent” promised on the label.

“So.You want to  _eat_?” JC asks. “ _Now_? I mean, sure. Of course. Let’s eat. You’ve obviously gone to a lot of trouble.” He picks up one of the wine glasses with an audible sigh and turns it this way and that, catching the light from forty candles and bouncing it along the walls.

“No. No, not really. Not that much trouble.” Which is true. All he’s done is supervise the housekeepers and summon the caterer. Oh, and light the candles and spray the air freshener, of course.

“Won’t it keep? The food?” JC asks hopefully.

“Um.Maybe? The guy said it’d be ready to serve in forty-five minutes,” Justin consults his watch, “forty-three minutes ago. I guess I could just turn down the oven, right?”

JC blinks at him and wrinkles his forehead again, much in the way of a person who has seen ovens before, and maybe even owns one, but who has never actually been able to figure out their essential purpose.

“Never mind.I  _could_  turn down the heat. In the oven, I mean. But. You said. I thought you said. On the phone.”

“On the phone?”Again with the blank stare. Sometimes it’s like JC lives on a different planet. One where they don’t have kitchens or shoes, or anything much besides a lot of singing and fucking and primo weed.But what the fuck? JC might be crap in the kitchen, but Justin knows damn well he knows how to operate a phone.

“Yeah.Remember? Last week, when you called me? You said there was something you needed to say before we. You know. Got involved.”

“Oh! Right!” The look of confusion vanishes in one of JC’s brilliant smiles, the kind of all-out, no holds barred smile that makes Justin want to fuck him where he stands. “No. I mean, yes, sure. I do. Have something to say. But that can wait until we, uh, get involved, as you put it.”

“Uh huh.And  _this_ ,” Justin waves his hand toward their crotches, still separated by less than an inch of air and a couple of layers of denim. “This would be what, exactly?”

“Sex, Justin. This is  _sex_.” JC rubs his knuckles lightly along Justin’s fly. “Sex. Getting involved is the talking part. I thought maybe we’d have sex  _before_  dinner, and then get involved  _after_  dinner. Or during. That could work, too.”

Now Justin is confused. Chris had said--.

“But, I thought. Chris said--“

“Chris?”

“Oh, well, yeah. Couple of nights ago. I told him you’d finally gotten over your age issues, which he totally agreed were just lame, by the way. He said it’s about frickin’ time, and if you weren’t such a shit for brainsasshat, you’d have said yes years ago. Kind of his way of giving his blessing, I guess. But anyway, he said you’d already talked to him and he knew what you needed to talk to me about, and--“

“He  _told_  you? That’s pretty rude, man. That’s kind of personal stuff.”

“Yeah, no shit. But you  _were_  planning on telling me yourself, anyway, right? And you can’t expect Chris to keep that kind of thing to himself. He just wanted to make sure I was. Um. Prepared. You know. He  _is_  my best friend, after all. Best friends don’t keep secrets, dude. Not  _that_  kind of secret.”

JC looks at him skeptically, but whatever. Thank  _God_  Chris had told him JC’s secret. Without that forewarning, he’d have screwed this up for sure. He’d been trying to talk his way into JC’s pants for far too many years to let one little detail, even as weird a detail as this one, get in the way. It had been such a close thing, too. If he’d been just a tiny bit less persistent, Chris never would have told him.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

 _They’d been in the Skybar at the Mondrian, drinking Jack Daniels and Sambuca (a disgusting concoction called, according to Chris, “A Flying Fuck”). The waiter kept smiling hungrily at Justin, like there wasn’t much he wouldn’t be prepared to do to land a walk-on part in “Edison_ ” _, and glaring at Chris, who couldn’t seem to keep his feet off the furniture or his high pitched cackling at an indoor volume._

“ _No, of course I won’t tell you,” Chris had said. “What kind of friend would I be if I went around doing that kind of shit? JC will tell you when he’s ready.”_

“ _What kind of friend are you if you *don’t*_ _tell me? You suck, man. I *need* to know what he’s going to say. I *need* to, Chris.”_

“ _Don’t whine, dude. It doesn’t make me want to tell you, but it does make me inclined to pour my drink into your pocket. Or your drink into my pocket”_

“ _No, but, c’mon, Chris._ _What if I, oh, I don’t know. What if I’m, like, startled or shocked by whatever it is, and I react in some kind of weird way, but maybe all I really needed was a little time to think about it, but I don’t have that time, and then he gets all offended and doesn’t want to get with me after all? I don’t want to fuck this up, Chris, I really don’t, but I don’t do so well with surprises sometimes. You know that.”_

“ _Yeah._ _But. A confidence is a confidence. What if he asked me to tell him one of *your* secrets?”_

“ _I don’t have any secrets.” Chris had raised his eyebrows. “Oh, well. A couple, maybe. You wouldn’t tell him, though. Would you? I mean, it’s different, anyway. Me being your best friend and all, that changes everything, right?”_

“ _Hmm._ _Not so much, no.”_

“ _Oh, Chris, come on. Please, please, you gotta  tell me what he’s gonna say. I’m begging you, dude.”_

 _Chris had slammed his glass down on the table, earning another frown from the waiter. “You’re relentless. You’re a relentless, whiny little turd. Except for the ‘little’ bit. Are you on steroids, or what? ‘Cause thatshit’ll screw with your brains. I knew this guy once--”_

“ _Chriiiis!_ _Please!”_

“ _Okay, fine. Have it your way. Make me betray your boyfriend’s deep, dark secrets before he’s even your boyfriend. Not a very promising way to start a relationship, though, I have to say.”_

“ _Oh, shut up. It’ll be fine. He won’t care. I won’t tell him, anyway, so he’s not even going to know. And it’s *JC*. The secret can’t be that deep and dark. Can it? Chris?”_

 _Chris had sighed and signalled the waiter for another round of drinks. “Justin. Look. JC’s a bit. Well. He’s unique, you know that.”_

“ _Uh huh._ _Yeah.” Fucking duh. Why would Justin be interested if he weren’t?_

“ _Anyway, he has this thing.” There had been a lengthy pause while Chris had fiddled with his glass, and then folded and refolded his cocktail napkin._

“ _Thing?”_ _Justin had asked. “You mean, like a birthmark?” He’d known as soon as he said it that it was stupid. He’d seen JC all kinds of naked on all kinds of different occasions, just like he’d seen all the guys naked. If there was some kind of horrible, disfiguring scar or strawberry mark or whatever, he’d have noticed for sure._

“ _Yeah, right._ _Of course. Under his left testicle. Doofus. Not that kind of a thing. Not a *physical* thing.More of a mental thing with physical consequences, if you know what I mean.”_

“ _Um._ _Not really. Unless. Are you saying he’s crazy?”_

“ _No. Well. He* is* crazy, he’s one of the craziest mother fuckers I’ve ever met, but that’s not what I’m saying, no.”_

“ _Fuck, Chris. Would you just spit it out already? You’re making me crazy!”_

“ _Patience, grasshopper,” Chris had said, patting Justin’s knee under the table. “Do you know what a paraphilia is?”_

“ _Mm. No.”_

“ _Of course you don’t, you ignorant brat. If you opened a book once in a while . . .”_

“ _Hey! I open a lot of books! I read!”_

“ _Yeah, well, ‘Men Who Love Women Who Love Guys From Ohio_ _Who Fall in Love with Their Pet Crickets’ doesn’t count. And neither does the horoscope section of the newspaper.”_

“ _Fuck you. I read *lots* more than that. Asshole.”_

“ _You know, I *could* just let you wait and find this out from JC. In fact--“_

“ _No, I’m sorry. I am. Go on.”_

“ _Okay, then. Just so you understand, the only reason I’m telling you this is because I really don’t want to see JC get hurt. You’re right. You are going to need some time to process this, and it’s probably better for you and for him that you do that processing before he actually tells you. It’ll give you time to figure out how you’re going to handle this. And this way you won’t end up saying the first stupid thing that comes into your head.”_

“ _Oh, my god._ _See? I knew it was something big! I could feel it. Oh, Jesus. Is it--. Is he, like, having problems, you know. Getting it up? Is that what that means? That pair of whatsits?”_

“ _Paraphilia._ _And, no. That’s not what it means. A paraphilia is like when a person gets all bent out of shape sexually about something unusual. Like getting turned on by drinking piss out of someone’s sneaker. Or getting the hots for corpses. That kind of thing.”_

“ _JC likes dead people?”_

“ _I hope so. Otherwise he’s going to have a hell of a time trying to figure out what to do with your body when I dump it on his doorstep. Are you congenitally incapable of shutting your mouth and listening for two consecutive minutes?”_

“ _Sorry. Really. Go ahead.”_

“ _Thank you so much. As I was saying. Paraphilia. JC has this thing about. About. Oh, hell, there’s no point pussyfooting around it. When he’s with guys, he only gets really aroused if they’re wearing women’s underwear when they fuck him.”_

“ _Shut up! That’s just. You’re making it up!”_

“ _Fine._ _Fuck you too. I’ll see you next time I feel like beating my head against a wall.” Chris had stood up to leave, but Justin had yanked him back into his seat._

“ _Wait! Don’t go. Don’t. I’m sorry, it’s just. Whoa. It’s a bit of a shock. Fuck. That’s some messed up shit. You mean, like--“_

“ _I mean, like, women’s *underwear*, Justin. Bras, panties, teddies, slips, camisoles, garter belts, merry widows. Shit. You date women. You know what they wear under their real clothes.”_

“ _Yeah, of course, but. Oh, man. Fuck me.”_

“ _Pass. Look. What’s the big deal? It’s just a funny little quirk, that’s all. Guy’s got a million of them. This shouldn’t be that big a surprise.”_

“ _Well. It kind of is, though.”_

“ _What’s the big deal? You were gonna fuck him anyway. What difference does it make what you’re wearing when you do it? Just hang your jacket over the mirror and get to it.”_

“ _What if it was Lance? Would *you* do it?”_

“ _Are you serious? I’d wear a floor-length ball gown and a tiara if that’s what it took to get into Lance’s pants. Fortunately, he prefers his men in pants. Or better still, naked.”_

 “ _Shit. I dunno, man.” Justin had stared at the table for a few minutes and tried to think this through. He’d wanted JC for years. Years and years. Since he’d first realized that he liked guys as much as he liked girls.Was he really going to let this ruin everything? “What should I do, Chris? I mean, do they even *make* women’s underwear in my size?”_

 _Slapping Justin on the back hard enough to make him bite his tongue, Chris had beamed at him. “That’s my boy! I knew you wouldn’t let him down. Of course they make it in your size. You think Roseanne Barr sews her own? I’ll make you a shopping list, but first, where the hell is that snotfest of a waiter with our drinks?“_

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

The thing is, though, up until a couple of minutes ago, JC couldn’t have known that Justin knew his secret and therefore had no way of knowing about the bra and panties underneath Justin’s clothes. He sure doesn’t seem to be having any problem getting it up, though. So this means . . . what, exactly? Justin looks at JC who’s staring wistfully at Justin’s crotch. Well, it can only mean one thing, really. Whatever JC feels for Justin is apparently strong enough to transcend his pear thing. His lingerie thing. Cool. Justin has cured him. Almost, anyway. Just wait till he tells Chris.

“Screw the food,” he says, yanking JC back in by the belt loops. “And screw the talking. They can both wait.”

JC doesn’t need any more persuading. He’s wrapped around Justin before the words are even out of Justin’s mouth. For the next few minutes, there’s just the delicious press of JC’s groin against his own, o fJC’s tongue flirting around in his mouth and JC’s hands kneading his ass and the backs of his thighs.

“Mmm. Um.Bedroom?” Justin asks, when he can bear to pull his mouth away from JC’s.

“Ohhh.Uh. Hmm. Here’s good.” JC kisses his way from Justin’s lips down to his throat, and Justin shivers, involuntarily pulling back. “Oh, baby, you taste so fucking good. You  _feel_  so fucking good,” he adds, running his hands over Justin’s ass, his hips, up to curl around his ribs, higher to--.

“What the fuck?” JC jerks and moves back a fraction of an inch. “Justin? Are you--” His fingers slide over Justin’s chest, under his arms and over his back. “Are you wearing a, a--“

“Bra?Mm hmm.” Justin leans in to nibble at JC’s earlobe for a few seconds, and then whispers, “It’s blue satin.” It’s a good thing his face is hidden in JC’s hair; because it feels like it’s red enough to stop traffic. This will get easier with time, he’s sure.

“Oh. Oh. Okay. Uh, great. Good. Oh, wow. I’m. I’m speechless.”

“Matching panties, too,” Justin continues in what he hopes is a sexy voice. It’s hard to hear himself, what with the roaring of acute embarrassment in his ears. “ _Thong_  panties.”

JC coughs and gives Justin’s back an absent pat, like he doesn’t realize where the cough came from. “Good. Good. That’s. That’s really nice, Justin. I didn’t know you like this sort of, um. Thing. Really. I had no clue.”

“No, well, I don’t really. I mean, I didn’t.” JC’s stroking his back, kissing the side of his head with chaste little closed mouth kisses. It’s a long way from the lust of a minute ago, but it’s oddly soothing, so Justin doesn’t mind. He can use all the soothing he can get, right about now.

“It’s okay, you know. It’s fine. I was just a little surprised, that’s all.”

“Yeah, well. I would’ve been too, if Chris hadn’t already told me.”

“If Chris hadn’t told you what?”

“You know. That you only like to get fucked by boys in girls’ undies.”

There’s funny little tremor in the hand petting his back, and then JC’s shoulder’s start to shake. For a terrible moment, Justin thinks he’s crying, but not for long, because suddenly JC is howling, laughing so hard the tears are pouring down his cheeks, wetting Justin’s shirt and neck.

“What? What’s so damned funny? Fuck. This isn’t funny, dude. I’m wearing a god-damned bra for you, asshole, you’d better fucking well not be laughing at  _me_.”

“Oh, shit. Justin. Man. _Chris_  told you that?  _Chris?_  And you  _believed_  him? What the hell were you guys smoking? I mean, whatever, different strokes and all, but I’ve never really been into the whole transvestite thing. Except  _Rocky Horror_ , I guess. And I thought Lance was pretty hot in that pink dress, but I didn’t particularly want to, you know. Do him. I didn’t mind when he said no, anyway. So, did Chris tell you that I’d want to call you Justine, or what?”

It doesn’t seem possible, but Justin’s face feels even hotter now than before. “I’m gonna kill him. I swear to god, I’m gonna kill every bone in his stubby little body and then I’m gonna piss in all his cars. Fuck! Fuck, I can’t believe I fell for that! I can’t believe I’m standing here with a fucking blue satin bra squishing the fucking  _life_  right the hell out of me, because I was stupid enough to believe something I wouldn’t have believed if the freakin’ pope had told me.”

JC slides a hand up under Justin’s shirt and fiddles expertly with the fastening on the bra. “There. Better?”

“Oh, fuck, yes. Thank you.”

Justin closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. He’ll kill Chris later. Right now there’s still a chance this evening isn’t totally fucked up. “So what  _did_  you want to tell me, anyway?”

“Oh, well. Nothing as interesting as,” JC pats Justin’s chest, “ _this_. I just wanted to tell you that I know you still want to be with Cameron and I’m cool with that, but you should know that I don’t want to get into any threesome shit because then everything just gets weird. So, like, that’s where I draw the line.”

“Right.Okay.” Justin  _really_  doesn’t want to think about Cameron right now. Oh please God, he thinks, let her never find out about this. She’ll never stop laughing at him. Ever.

“Unless of course it’s really important to you or something.I mean, if it’s gonna create problems, I’d be prepared to consider it.”

But she  _will_  find out, because even if he doesn’t tell her, Chris will. Chris will tell  _every_ body.

“He is so dead,” Justin says. “He’s so fuckin’ dead, man.”

“Oh, but it is kind of funny though.”

“Yeah, hysterical.Do you have any idea how embarrassing it is trying to hold blue satin panties up against yourself discreetly to see if they’ll fit?”

“I can’t believe you’d do this for me. Like. Man. That’s just. Wow.” There’s not a trace of mockery on JC’s face, and he’s smiling at Justin like Justin’s just given him the best blowjob of his life, which makes Justin feel just the tiniest bit less stupid. Or at least like maybe this has been worth it.

“Hey,” JC says. “Did you say matching panties too?”

Justin scowls at him and nods.

“Can I see?”

“No! Let go of me. I’m gonna go change.”

“Wait, though. Just let me, let me-" With a flick of his wrist, JC opens Justin’s fly, and a second or two later he’s yanked Justin’s pants down to his knees.

“Shit! JC, cut it out!”

JC doesn’t pay any attention, just smiles at the powder-blue panties that were definitely never intended to house an erect dick and a set of balls. “Oh, baby. Very sweet.” Running his fingers delicately over the y fabric, JC whispers, “You can totally wear these when you fuck me.”

“Oh, shit,” Justin gasps. “Man, that’s kind of fucked up, don’t you thi--“

He loses his train of thought as JC sinks to his knees, and when JC’s tongue starts drawing wet patterns all over the blue satin, Justin decides he really doesn’t care how fucked up it is as long as JC doesn’t stop. It’s a good thing the table’s behind him, because all the bones in his legs have melted and the only thing holding him up is the hard ridge of wood digging into his butt. That and JC’s mouth. Sweet Jesus, that mouth knows its stuff.

The panties are starting to get uncomfortably tight, almost as bad as the bra had been, and Justin reaches down to tug himself free. JC bites his hand and pushes it away.

 “C’mon, C, I just wanna--“

 And then JC’s fingers are worming their way under the satin, holding Justin’s dick in position,. The panties are even tighter now, but who gives a shit, this is fucking fantastic. Justin’s breath catches as JC starts edging the front of the panties down, slowly, slowly, until Justin wants to yell at him to get a fucking  _move_ on already, but instead he just wraps his hands in JC’s hair and tries not to pull. And then JC’s mouth finally finds its way onto Justin’s dick, and, man oh man oh man oh  _man_ , that mouth is just the sweetest thing ever, bar none, it’s better than anything, it’s Justin’s new best friend.

 Justin tries to make it last, but neither his dick nor JC will cooperate. It’s over in a couple of embarrassingly short minutes, and when his brain kicks back into gear, JC grinning up at him and licking his lips. He looks completely, deliciously, fuckable, for all the good it’s going to do him.

Justin tugs his hair gently. “Well, it doesn’t look like I’m gonna be fucking you in girl’s underwear, dude.”

“Hmm, I guess you’re right” JC says, giving Justin’s limp dick a quick kiss. His finger traces the string of the thong down the cleft of Justin’s ass. “Good thing I have a contingency plan.”’

the end


End file.
